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The corn husker

Hard by the Indian lodges, where the bush
 Breaks in a clearing, through ill-fashioned fields,
She comes to labour, when the first still hush
 Of autumn follows large and recent yields.

Age in her fingers, hunger in her face,
 Her shoulders stooped with weight of work and years,
But rich in tawny colouring of her race,
 She comes a-field to strip the purple ears.

And all her thoughts are with the days gone by,
 Ere might's injustice banished from their lands
Her people, that to-day unheeded lie,
 Like the dead husks that rustle through her hands.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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Emily Pauline Johnson

Emily Pauline Johnson Tekahionwake commonly known as E Pauline Johnson or just Pauline Johnson was a Canadian writer and performer popular in the late 19th century Pauline Johnson was notable for her poems and performances that celebrated her aboriginal heritage One such poem is the frequently anthologized The Song My Paddle Sings Her poetry was published in Canada the United States and Great Britain Johnson was one of a generation of widely read writers who began to define a Canadian national literature more…

All Emily Pauline Johnson poems | Emily Pauline Johnson Books

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    "The corn husker" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 24 Jul 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/12617/the-corn-husker>.

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